Wild Strawberries
by Calico Yorki
Summary: I became possessed by the urge to write something short and romantic involving Ichigo and Tatsuki. I'll leave the option open to possibly make a longer running story out of this. Let me know if I should, or if maybe this story is a little underwhelming.
Stood on the doorstep to what could be the worst rejection of his life, Ichigo was sweating bullets. He'd faced down ravenous Hollows, insane Shinigami, and Quincy who were after nothing less than the throne of God.

Never had he faced something which filled him with so much dread as this. His stomach was doing somersaults, his hands wringing and his mouth dry as Hueco Mundo. "Come on, Kurosaki Ichigo," he snarled at himself, slapping his hands on his face a few times. "What are you, a coward? This is shameful! All I need to do is knock on the door."

He curled his fingers into a fist, and raised his arm. "Just," he gulped, "just knock on the door, Ichigo." He shuddered, gasping for breath. "Just…Just knock on the door, dammit!" He began to lower his fist. "Dammit," he groaned, "I'm so weak!"

Quite all of a sudden, the door slammed open with such force that Ichigo jumped a foot in the air! There stood Tatsuki, dressed in an orange and green t-shirt and blue jeans cut off just below the knee. "For Pete's sakes, Ichigo," she snapped! "I can hear you muttering and fuming from my window! You've been standing out here for half-an-hour! What the hell do you want?"

Ichigo felt the stares of a few people on the street burning into him. He bowed repeatedly, apologizing profusely. "I am _so_ sorry Tatsuki," he babbled lamely, "I um, I kind of wanted — well, I kind of needed — I-I mean, I just." He gave a deep, long-suffering sigh, keeping his face downturned. "Tatsuki, may I please come in?"

"Of course you can," Tatsuki groaned. "We're friends, Ichigo. My house is always open to you. Especially if you need to get away from your nutbar of a father." Tatsuki moved back inside the door and stepped aside so Ichigo could enter. Face still tucked down to hide his vivid red blush, Ichigo shuffled in quietly.

Tatsuki lived on her own now, having graduated and moved on to pursue higher education. With her karate skills and good grades, she had gotten into a very well-known college, she was set to get a degree that would shape up her future in a fantastic way. She'd also won first place at a major vale tudo competition, making her famous on the national stage. Ichigo hadn't gotten into quite as stellar a college, but his prospects were looking good, too.

Still, he felt like if he didn't do this now, he'd forever regret being afraid to pursue the things that mattered most.

Heavily taking a seat on the couch, Ichigo sighed. "Tatsuki, I, um — " He was suddenly startled by Tatsuki grabbing him and hurling him to the floor!

Arms and legs pinned by Tatsuki's offensive, Ichigo turned beet red as he felt her body against his own. One of her legs was firmly wedged between his thighs, and her chest was squashed against his back. This sea was hell.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," Tatsuki suddenly snarled, "you are a piece of work, you know that?" She tightened her arm's grip around his jaw. "You come to a girl's house, you dither around on her front step for half-an-hour, and then you come inside and don't even know what you're going to say to her!" A sudden jerk had Ichigo looking her in the eyes. Her tearful, angry eyes.

"I can't believe you didn't even think about what you'd say to me," she growled. "You just came here on a whim, didn't have any sort of plan. Am I not even worth you planning what you're going to say?" She slowly released her grip on him.

Tatsuki was subsequently surprised to find Ichigo not cowering or slumping, but rolling around so he was on top!

"Don't talk down to me like it's easy to plan this out," he growled back, tears welling up in his own eyes. "You know what I want to say, right? You know how hard a thing like that is to say, right?"

Tatsuki stared up at Ichigo, blushing. "Ichigo," she whispered, "I know what you want to say. Get off."

Ichigo reluctantly got up off of her, brushing off his knees. They both kneeled on the floor, looking anywhere but at each other.

"Ichigo, I — "

"Tatsuki, I — "

They both stopped short. Staring at each other, both blushing red hot, they gulped in unison.

"Ichigo," Tatsuki breathed.

He flinched. "Yeah, Tatsuki?"

"Kiss me, god dammit."

Without any further prelude, they threw their arms around each other, their lips crashing together. It was a clumsy first kiss with absolutely no finesse, but they more than made up for it with passion. It was passion built up over about a decade of friendship, between two friends who had always protected each other from the world's evils.

They eventually found their way, though, and deepened the kiss. Tatsuki firmly gripped Ichigo's waist in her arms, and Ichigo vigorously ran his fingers through Tatsuki's hair. When they at last pulled apart, an ephemeral line of saliva connected them for just a moment, before disappearing like the morning dew.

"Ichigo," Tatsuki whispered, "I don't care what it takes. We're going to make this work, okay?"

"I know," Ichigo replied. "If I'm at class all day, I'll spend the night with you. If any of that Shinigami bullshit comes up, I'll wipe it out before it can take any of my time away from you."

"You're a dumbass," Tatsuki laughed. She then sighed, gripping Ichigo's hand tightly. "But you've always been the dumbass I loved, you know?"

"I know, Tatsuki," Ichigo smiled, beginning to tear up. "I love you too, you jerk."

Crying and laughing, the young lovers embraced and rolled around, reveling in each other.

No matter what it took, they would make this work.


End file.
